Between a rock and a sore place
by MistressSnowclaw
Summary: Tension is growing between the brothers, as Dean is missing Cas, but Sam is angry at having been thrown under the bus. Bobby has to step in to reason with Dean. Will big brother remember where his loyalties lie? Limp Sam, stubborn Dean. Start of Season 7. Short and sweet. Complete story.


**_Start of Season 7_**

**_Sam's head was broken by Cas in his mission to absorb all the souls from Purgatory._**

**_Dean and Bobby got Sam home, and after Sam woke up, he is having to deal with bits of The Cage seeping into his waking life._**

**_But on top of this, he has to Deal with a grieving Dean. Grieving for Cas, that is._**

**_Sam has to try and comfort his brother, while working through his own anger towards Cas._**

Dean was carefully scrubbing grease from his hand in the kitchen sink. Bobby was out on a supply run, so he wasn't there to smack him upside the head for messing grime all over the place.

Somewhere behind him, he could hear the steady tap of Sam's fingers on the laptop keys. Since Dean had pretty much forbidden him from leaving Bobby's, he's taken it upon himself to catch up on emails, search cases, and quietly research anything that might help him with his hallucinations.

Sam's been feeling more and more unsure of what is real around him, and been looking at everyone with suspicion.

Both the older men had noticed, and while they discussed it in private, they pretended not to see anything while around him.

Just the other night, Bobby had been helping Dean sand a section of the Impala, before re-spraying.

"So whaddaya think?" Bobby mumbled though the bandana covering his mouth.

Dean straightened up, took a step back, put his hands on his hips, smirked, and said "She's looking good Bobby"

The older man, turned around, fixed him annoyed stare "Your brother, ya idjit"

Dean's smirk dropped, and did his eyes. The dusty floor was suddenly very interesting. "I dunno. He seems ok" he shrugged "ya know… considering"

"uh-huh" Bobby said dubiously "I think you and him need to have solid one-on-one, if you ask me" he turned back to his sanding, leaving his words as the final decree, leaving Dean blinking at the back of the other man's head.

_Nobody asked you _Dean thought.

Since then, Dean had played out a thousand different scenarios in his mind, where he would try and talk to Sam, get him to spill. Tried to anticipate the state he would find his brother. He was keeping up a strong front, but for god's sakes, he changed that kid's diapers, he could see the strain written all over his face.

He could only imagine the confusion, the immense feeling of being lost. He was fine. Then his world was ripped to pieces by Cas.

And there his reasoning would get stuck, because the image of Cas disappearing into the water, and not re-appear… and made him forget to breathe.

All his words were gone, everything he had planned to say to Sam, was gone. The immense weight of the loss of his best friend, dragging his courage away.

Dean realised that he has been standing rubbing away at one finger for 5 minutes now, even though the skin was pink and clean ages ago.

He turned off the tap, and dried his hands and forearms on the closest dishcloth.

Turning around, he found Sam staring out the window, at some private thought or memory. At times like this, when Sam was in his own world, without pretence, the face of a small boy would come through. Despite the stubble, the square jaw, and the lambchops. Despite his battle to save the world. His soulful eyes held all the reasons Dean had ever needed to keep on keeping on.

Sam, feeling Dean's eyes on him, snapped out of his reverie. He cleared his throat self-consciously.

"So" he started "I found a group of weird deaths in Amory, Mississippi."

Dean grunted acknowledgement, Sam pushed on "Seems very vampy to me"

Dean, leaning back against the kitchen table with crossed arms "And you think you gonna do something about it?" he narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Well, no" the younger hunter flustered "I was just thinkin… you know…" he seemed unsure of what he was supposed to do, what was required of him.

"Don't" was Dean's answer "You need to deal with … " he pointed at his own head "whatever.. _it_ is, you need to deal with" He took a deep breath, this is a good a time as any.

He walked over to where Sam was sitting, dragged over the nearest chair, and plonked himself down in it.

Sam eyed him suspiciously.

"So" he smiled uncomfortably "my brother. How are you?" he looked at his brother like he expected him to explode.

Sam blinked at him "Uhm. You know. I'm tripping balls. But I'm managing"

Dean nodded gratefully, that went well. He slapped his knee as he got ready to get out of the chair, to be stopped by a quiet confession.

"I'm also pissed off. "

Dean, with his ass 5 inches off the seat already, hovered there for a second, then put himself into the wood again "okay" he frowned. "In general, or…?"

"At Cas" Sam said loudly. Too loudly. He checked himself. 'I was fine, Dean. I was good. You know." He drew a shaky breath "I had.. _hope_" he suddenly looked away, and out the window again.

The older brother swallowed "I know" he said "and you should be angry. He broke you. You should be kickin in doors." he nodded, satisfied at the Dr Phil he's pulling.

Sam was still staring at the darkness outside "I wish I was there, in the end, I would have choked the life out of him… Force him to fix…. _This_. " his hands were fists on the table.

Dean shifted around uncomfortably "well you know" he started "He is a child and all. He just wanted to fix the world" he smiled lopsidedly, hoping to bring some humour into this heavy mood.

Sam's nostrils were flaring with effort in keeping his temper in check. He said through clenched teeth "so you're not angry"

Dean, sensing an impending shitstorm, quickly tried to diffuse his little brother's anger "I didn't say that. You must just, I dunno. He's not like us, you know. His brain dun' function like ours…"

Sam's eyes were squeezed shut, and his knuckles were white from the strain of holding his hands still. When he opened them, a single tear had escaped. He wiped at it irritably.

Dean felt immensely helpless, and he had to swallow against the growing lump in his throat. He was supposed to look after his little brother. Even if the world was on the verge of collapse, which is the thing he always knew he had to do. Look after Sammy.

And now? What now? He couldn't un-do what Cas did. Hell, he couldn't pull any deals, he couldn't beat answers out of any monster. And Cas … he wasn't around anymore.

Cas did good, in the end. He tried, poor bastard.

He drew a breath to say something, but Sam launched out his chair, and took long, hurried strides up the stairs, trying to hide the fresh streaks of wet over his face.

Dean flinched at the slamming up the bedroom door. He stared at the table.

He remembered, suddenly, Cas's confession, seconds before they opened the portal to Purgatory again. _I feel regret_. He should have told him, that he forgave him.

"Cas you child" he muttered, digging his thumbnail into the wood of the chair.

The sound of Bobby's truck broke his thoughts, and he suddenly needed to escape.

As Bobby reach to open the front door, Dean had already pulled it open, jacket on, car keys in hand.

Bobby started to ask, but Dean cut him off "I'm going out. Don't wait up." and marched off the porch, and into the darkness.

Calling after Dean, Bobby took two steps towards the disappearing man, then turned, shaking his head "…not too old for a hidin…."

Dean was on his 7th scotch, or was it 8th? Who cares?.

The bar lady was cute, and happy to take his money, as long as he was happy to give it.

He stared blearily into the amber liquid in his glass. His head has become rather heavy, and he was resting it on his hand. The elbow of his jacket slowly getting saturated by spilled beer.

In the last hour or so, the general noise of the bar has gotten less, but there was still the occasional loud laughter of youngsters playing pool, or darts.

He suddenly became aware of throbbing on forehead. Slowly detaching his hand from his glass, he reached to touch the spot in his hairline. He rubbed at the healing scar for a second, trying to think where he had gotten it.

_Of course_, he thought, _Castiel._

In all the crazy with the eclipse, Cas had flung Bobby and himself all over, he cut his head open on something. He shook his head. _Goddamn Cas. Why couldn't you just listen.?_

He clenched his jaw against the tightness in his chest. He took deep breath.

Cas was always so damn innocent. So damn, _impulsive. _Dean felt like he should have been looking after him, somehow, guarding him against the evils of this world.

"He was my friend" he mumbled into his glass.

"Sorry honey?" the bar lady asked.

Dean, realising he had spoken out loud, rolled with it "Another one" tapping the bar top with his finger.

She put her hand on her hip tartly, and waggled a finger at him "I don't think so sugar. You have been downing all sorts, and it's closing time now. So get your ass home now, k?" she snatched the empty glasses off the counter as she spoke, making it obvious that there was no more booze to be had.

Knowing that she won't be much help now, he simply waved her off, and threw back the last bit of his drink.

Slowly turning in his stool, he peered through the haze and spotted the kids at the pool table, giggling and pointing at him.

Dean gave them a snotty smirk, and made his way towards the bar exit.

As the fresh air hit him, he took a stagger with the headrush. Fumbling his car keys into the mud in the effort to not faceplant.

He squinted at mud expanse he had to dig through now. "sonofabitch" he sighed.

He was planning on how to retrieve the keys without getting mud on his hands, when the group of youngsters spilled out of the bar, and immediately spotted his predicament.

"hey Pops, ya'll havin problems there?" he mocked, his friends snickering around him.

Dean, with his back still too them, said "Aint you lot out past your bedtime?"

More giggling. Dean rolled his eyes.

Another voice piped up "that's some fine boots there mister. You mind if I borrow them?"

Dean sighed, and turned. "listen snothead, I aint got time for you and the Muppet Show, so go count chesthair somewhere else'

The youngster who spoke, with a skinny fellow, with lanky black hair.

He stepped forward "A funny man hey?" he looked back to his friends for backup. He squared off with Dean, reached for the lapel of his jacket, and Dean had him by the wrist in an instant.

The kid instinctually jumped back, pulling Dean forward with the momentum.

Later, as Dean lay wheezing for breath, he cursed himself for not being able to fend off 5 kids.

Dean gingerly brought his hand up to his face, and winced as his fingers found a split lip, a cut eyebrow, and who knows what else.

_Good fight_ Dean thought _had those little shits scrambling soon enough._

He grinned at the thought of them having to half carry each other out of the alley, and immediately regretted it as the split in his lip tore again.

They hoped to corner him, to but they gave him something to keep his back to instead, and he taught them a good lesson. One of two broken noses, some lost teeth. Might even a broken jaw, especially that punk that wanted to take his shoes. He got a solid boot in the face at some point.

Dean tried to pull a deeper breath, and gave up. Bruised ribs. Cracked if he's lucky.

Good fight. Needed this fight.

Sitting in this alley, half inbetween the garbage bags where he finally collapsed, he knew a strange kind of peace.

The booze, and the adrenaline, the coppery taste of blood, pain all over. This is what he knew. This is the one constant he could always rely on. And that would always be there.

He wondered what time it was. His muddled mind trying to do the calculations.

_The bar closes at 2am, so maybe now... 2:30? Long time till dawn._

And so he sat, until the blood cooled on his face. Enjoying the apathy that drink brings him, until he heard the sound of feet squelching in the mud.

He tried to push himself up, and found his arms quite uncooperative, and suddenly he realised how cold he was. The steps were definitely coming closer. The kids again, coming to finish him off?

_Crap_ he thought _This aint gonna end well._

He let out a breath of dismay when he saw a figure at the end of alley. It stopped, looked at the ground, then in his direction, then slowly started towards him.

His breath puffed in front of him, as he watch this new threat approach him, He tried to squint to see, but it was too dark, there was blood in his eye, and he was simply too damn drunk to focus.

The figure stopped.

"Dean?"

He blinked at his own name. "Sammy?"

Sam immediately came marching towards him, his hair bouncing as he walked.

_His pissy walk_ Dean thought, and smiled at his own wit.

Sam knelt in front of him and gently put his hand on his brother's jaw, tilting his head into the light so he could see the extent of the damage. "what the hell happened"

Dean limply brought up his hand in a dismissive gesture "just kids, you know..."

Sam winced as he saw how deep the cut over the eye was. "what? 20 of them"

"somethin like"

Sam sighed, and dropped his hand to Dean shoulder "Can you walk?"

"no problem" Dean huffed out, and Sam immediately pulled a face at his alcohol breath. "gimme a second"

Sam steadied himself, and offered Dean a hand-up. As Dean reached for it, Sam's brow immediately knitted "you are ice-cold" he said, and got down on his knees next to his brother, and looked at him in earnest. "how long have you been out here"

Dean started to pull a face, but Sam put his hand behind his neck, and looked him dead in the eye "Dean, why didn't you call me? You know I would've come for you" Concern made his already soft eyes turn into pools of emotion.

Dean was caught in the love he saw there. And before he could stop himself, he blurted "he's dead Sam". He had to swallow down the sob that was threatening to break out.

Sam searched his eyes for a second, then dropped his hand on to his knee, and sat back. "I know." He said "I'm sorry".

"what'm I gonna do? You know. He..." his vision swam with unshed tears.

"we will be ok" Sam said softly "we were ok before he came along, we will be ok after"

Dean drew a shuddering breath, and squeezed his eyes shut, causing tears to spill over his cheeks, making small rivulets of dissolved blood.

Sam, knew that no amount of words, will help with this booze-fuelled over share. He also knew that times like this, is the rarest of opportunities, to hear exactly what is going on this stubborn head. He signed with resignation "come on Dean, let's get you home. Bobby is gonna skin us both alive"

Dean balked for a second. _Bobby? But if Sam is here, and Bobby isn't ..._"Sam why are you here alone?"

Sam pursed his lips, annoyed "I can drive myself you know. And anyways, Bobby wanted you to rot in whatever motel you were passed out in. And I wanted to come find you... So here I am" he shrugged.

Dean slapped him on his arm "that's my little bro" his grin splitting his lip again, causing a new flow of blood over his chin.

Dean could hear the enthusiastic mating songs of the pigeons outside. He could see the light through his eyelids. But they refused to open.

His mouth was like ass. His head had a heard of mammoth playing football inside it.

Ah yes, the glories of the morning after the night before.

Lying on his stomach, and the same tshirt he left the house in last night, he slowly pulled his hands under his chest. For, if all else failed, at least rolling over. Which he then proceeded to do.

He dared open his eyes to a crack, and slowly allowed the horror of daylight to assault his tender retinas.

He groaned. Why does he do this to himself?

After a while of contemplating never drinking again, he looked to the side-table, and true's god, there was a glass of water, and 4 aspirin. "Bless you enormous head Sam" he muttered, and slowly inched himself towards the vertical, and downed all four pills in one go.

He emptied the glass, and sat with it limply in his hand, while the night before sifted back into his mind.

He remembered the bar, the fight. He also remembered the alley. Sam. Crying. "oh god" he moaned. Sam will be looking at him with those puppy eyes now, thinking him all vulnerable and broken. Wanting to 'talk' at every goddamn opportunity.

A pulled a deep breath. Time for a shower.

Even though he took his sweet-ass time, he was still dressed and downstairs in under 30 mins. The pills had started kicking in, and he was starting to resemble something vaguely human.

He found the coffee still hot, and a few sausages and oats on the stove. He stuffed his face eagerly, knowing his stomach was made of lead.

After he downed his second cup, he ventured outside.

The day was far along already. At least 11am. Why they had let him sleep it off this long, is a mystery. No doubt he would be hearing about it for a good few days coming.

He made his way slowly through the yard, and headed towards the parts shed when he heard machinery in use there.

As he ducked into the door, he spied Bobby, busy dismembering a Volvo.

He grinned stupidly "Bobby..." half lifting his hand.

He was either being ignored, or the guy wasn't hearing him.

Dean cleared his throat "Bobby!'

Without stopping his handiwork, he spat "I hear ya the first time"

_Ah, we are like this then, are we. _

"So" Dean started, scuffing his shoe in the dust like a chastised schoolchild "where's Sam"

Bobby dropped his wrench on the floor and got up in one angry gesture "Do I look like his goddamn nanny?"

Dean, taken aback by this sudden outburst (and being slightly fragile), brought up his hands in silent protest, his mouth working silently to find an answer.

Bobby glared at him for a second, then started towards the door. Dean shifted to the side to let the man through, but he stopped next to him instead.

"what's the matter with you son?"

Before he could answer, the older man continued "you had Sam climbing the goddamn walls with worry for ya last night. We nearly came to blows over going to find ya!" he huffed, beard bristling.

Dean at least looked abased, and wilted in the other hunter's glare "Sorry, Bobby. I didn't mean t..."

"Didn't mean to? What the hell kind of a lame-ass excuse is that? Your brother is 600 kinds of broken, and you are out, chasing skirt and getting beat up. The hell you thinkin?"

Dean started to answer again, and again got interrupted "you aint thinkin. That's what. You are walking round here, like a bear with a sore tooth, while your brother is hanging on by a thread. You think you the only one hurtin here? Sam carried you ass up the stairs last night. Cleaned you up. Talked me out ripping you a new one first thing this morning. And you are havin a pity party over losing the idjit who broke his melon. Wake up boy."

Dean finally got a word "I know Bobby, I know. What you want me to do. We all got shit here, man" he was being overwhelmed by Bobby's aggression "There's too much stuff, going on all the time. We never catch a break" he stopped before he said too much.

Bobby worked his jaw, his beard moving like an animal. Finally, he said "Listen son, I have dragged you boys through enough crap to give me legitimate Freud rights on you both. And I'm tellin you now. Your brother is going to break, and soon. And you need to stow your crap, and be there for him. Ya understand? You can grieve for Cas all ya like, but in your own time."

Dean nodded.

"Now go" he shoved Dean out the door.

Dean made his way down a gentle, tree-grown slope, toward a small spring that was hidden at the bottom.

He knew he would find Sam here. They had built a tree-house , that was ground zero when ever Dad dumped them here. Even when Sam was a teenager, and Dean done with school, they would still find an excuse to come down here.

The cool green of the trees, the silence, and the gentle trickle of the stream, made this a tiny nirvana where they could escape everything for a short time.

Sam, being the hunter that he is, heard Dean coming, and had his head turned toward him as he slid though the leaves the last few feet.

Without looking at each other, Dean slid down onto the forest floor in silence.

So they sat for at least ten minutes, before Dean broke the quiet "Hey Sam" he started, and failed.

Sam looked at him.

"I, just wanna say, thanx, you know. For saving my ass from Bobby. And coming to find me." He nodded, staring at a shiny pebble in the stream.

"No problem" Sam said simply.

Dean fidgeted with his hands. "Also, man, I..." he faltered, "just, I'm here for you. I'm gonna look after you"

Now he had Sam's attention, and he felt even more awkward "Cas is... was, my friend. And I don't even know how to feel about all this. But you are my brother, by own blood and flesh brother. And, for what Cas did, to you... he,...I'm beyond pissed about" he eventually managed to meet his brother's eyes "he lied to us. To you. He undid everything. I don't even know how you are not breaking... well, everything."

Sam's mouth twitched, he looked down, and nodded "It's not easy. Stuff from the cage... I hear bones cracking when I sleep. See blood on the walls, then it's gone again. Sometimes, it takes me half a conversation with someone, before I can decide whether it's actually happening or not" he smiled ruefully "I feel like I'm two inches away from exploding in every direction" the muscles in his jaw worked as he bit back a shaky breath.

Dean, understand a small amount of what hell is like, turned so he can see his brother's face clearly "I will find a way to fix this, Sammy. I swear to god. Somewhere, is this clowncar that is our lives, there will be a solution. And I will turn over every jackass and bone-thrower until we find it. You understand?"

Sam simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

After a few minutes of shared silence, Dean suddenly said "Bobby got some steaks. What you say we fire up the barbeque and you can make that weird bacon bread thing of yours, and we cremate some meat. Hey?"

Dean's enthusiasm had Sam smiling despite himself "Deal" he said, and let his brother haul him to his feet.

They pushed through the greenery, and as Dean made the clearing, and looked back, he caught the sight of Sam, wiping away at his face.

As Sam made to step past him, Dean grabbed him into bearhug, that surprised them both.

Dean thumped his little brother on the back "You will be ok Sammy. I promise"

Sam simply dropped his head onto his big brother's shoulder, and stood there, his jagged breathing betraying the silent sobs that was tearing at him.

And Dean let him, standing there in the afternoon sun, with the blue sky over them, and the grasses waving against their legs. Dean held his giant little brother, and let him weep. 


End file.
